The Twist in the Plot
by writable
Summary: It was mine," Angela confessed, dropping her hands to her side, "My pregnancy test, I mean." Cam pressed her eyes shut, and muttered some words of prayer; something about god and how she'd try to keep his name out of her favorite realm of profanities.
1. A Bag Full of Frogs

**Hey, people~ So, I know the last thing I should be doing is start another multi-chapter fic, but this has been one I've always wanted to do, because there simply isn't enough Hodgela fluff (rofl, whattabout Angins?) in the fanfic-verse. In order for this to make a smidgen of sense, Wendell was shortly after Hodgins, not like, a season and a half after. And this is based off of the mid-season five pregnancy scare thing. I don't have that particular episode in front of me to match the dialogue in the beginning, but this should give you all the same effect. Like always, thanks for reading! (:**

Dr. Saroyan barged into Angela's office with an air of frustration and misery.

"Are you pregnant?" she asked, waving a white stick around in the air. Her eyes were wide, hopeful.

Angela stared back, raising her eyebrows in surprise. Her gaze alternated from Cam's I-wish-you'd-shoot-me-now expression to the little plus sign on the pregnancy test's opaque slot. And then it found its way to Hodgins, who stepped into her office through the sliding door with a shocked open mouth and two hands raised in surrender.

"Whoa, it's okay, Ange," he said, taking a few slow steps towards the two women, "Whatever you and Wendell have been--"

"Why do you ask?" she interrupted. Cam's expression had changed immediately to apologetic.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to, I, just...found it in the trash can and I was wondering..." She bit her lip. This was sounding worse and worse as she continued.

"Well, did it ever occur to you that it might be Bren's?" Angela asked, shrugging her shoulders.

Cam's mouth opened gratefully as she turned towards Bones' office, her excited high heels stomping across the laboratory floor along the way. Hodgins turned towards Angela, crinkling his eyebrows.

"What was _that _all about?" he asked, "Cam's going crazy."

Angela smirked.

"And what's the one thing that makes her crazy?"

Hodgins tilted his head, knowingly.

"Michelle."

o o o

"Are you pregnant?"

Bones looked up to the voice in her doorway. She'd been analyzing a picture of Angela's facial reconstruction. The mouth of the victim was curled into an anxious smile. Angela always liked to pen those types of things in, depending on what kind of "feel" she got the for the pile of bones that sat on the examination table. This one, apparently, carried the world on her shoulders. As Brennan saw Cam, her expression seemed oddly familiar.

"No," she replied. You could always count on Brennan for a straightforward answer. "In fact, I have not engaged in--"

"Okay," Cam interrupted, defeated. She didn't have the time to listen to Bones right now. The only thing she could even fathom doing was grabbing her daughter by the arms and shaking her back and forth until she admitted that it was all some kind of sick joke.

"Is something wrong?" Bones asked, raising her eyebrows. Cam was a pathologist, head of the Forensic Division, and ex-New Yorker. Bundle of nerves was just not her style.

"Michelle," she managed to croak out. "I found a pregnancy test in the trash can, and she was just here, and..." She trailed off, curling her hands into fists.

"Did you ask Angela?" Bones offered, "She and Wendell have definitely been knocking tennis shoes." She nodded her head self-affirmingly, her blue eyes glistening in all seriousness.

"I did," Cam replied, trying not to laugh, "And it's knocking _boots._"

Bones squinted. "What?"

"Nevermind."

Taking a deep breath, Cam walked back towards her office.

Michelle was going to get it.

o o o

Cam was typing at her keyboard perfunctorily as Angela entered her office. Wringing her hands, she looked to Cam with a slightly uncomfortable smile.

"Are you busy?" she asked.

Cam shook her head, pushing the keyboard a little bit in front of her. She rested her forearms on the exposed desk.

"Not at all." She rubbed her fingers against her temples, trying to relieve some pressure that had been pounding inside her head all day.

"It was mine," Angela confessed, dropping her hands to her side, "My pregnancy test, I mean."

Cam pressed her eyes shut, and muttered some words of prayer; something about god and how she'd try to keep his name out of her favorite realm of profanities from now on.

"I'm sorry, Angela," she added, trying to put on her best sympathetic face. "Or..." she continued, "Am I sorry?"

Angela nodded.

"_Yes, _you're sorry," she replied, shaking her head, "For barging in on me like that." She cocked her head in disapproval. Cam looked down.

"I know, I know, I apologize," she answered, glancing at Angela from her swivel chair, "It wasn't my intention to make things all...awkward." She smiled a bit, hoping to cheer Angela up with her favorite word.

"Apology accepted," she replied, with a small smirk. "I wanted to get here as soon as possible, to put you out of your misery. It must be nice knowing you won't have to break some teenage boy's neck tonight, huh?" Her smirk turned into a grin as Cam chuckled.

"It _is,_" Cam agreed, pulling her keyboard back toward her. Angela began walking out.

"But you know what, Angela?" she called after her.

"Hm?"

"I would've just sent Booth to shoot him."

o o o

Angela sat down in her chair, placing a cautious hand over her belly. She stared at the blank screen of her computer for a few moments, trying to figure out which path to take next in her life.

"Ange?"

She looked up to see Hodgins, a zip-top bag full of green paste in his hand.

"Doctor B has another skull that needs reconstructing," he announced tiredly, "She says she'll be done with the tissue markers in ten minutes."

Angela nodded, waving her mouse on the table so that something would show up on the screen. Hodgins was a scientist, so he was observant by nature. A slip up like a blank monitor would send him into a frenzy.

"Those aren't maggots _again_, are they?" Angela asked, trying to divert his attention. She pointed to the strange mixture in his hand and suddenly felt the urge to throw up. _Hey, _she thought, _at least the work environment will be a good cover up for morning sickness_.

"No," Hodgins replied, blowing air through his lips. He paused for a second before grinning.

"They're frogs this time."

Angela rolled her eyes as the curly haired man in front of her chuckled.

"When are you going to tell Wendell?" he asked suddenly.

Angela's jaw dropped slightly, and she composed herself before deciding to play it off.

"Tell him what?" she replied, laughing nervously. Hodgins smirked, gesturing towards Angela's hand over her abdomen with his gaze. Angela clenched her teeth.

"Never," she mumbled.

Hodgins furrowed his eyebrows.

"Why not?"

Angela cleared her throat before she answered, looking straight into Hodgins' eyes.

"Because the baby's not his."

**I would love it if you could review. Also, I think I might need a beta. I have no idea how that would work, but someone proofreading and telling me what to flesh out more sounds fabulous. So PM me, I guess, if you're willing to! It would be much appreciated!**

Thanks for reading, again~  



	2. The Side Effect of Speed

**Thanks for the awesome reviews! I'm glad this story is one you all like. Hopefully it'll stay that way, haha. Sorry if my updates are kind of short, I usually go for 1.5k for each one. Past that, and I just lose inspiration. :D**

"_Have you been cheating on Wendell?_"

He spoke the words slowly and incredulously, as if that was the only possibility on Earth that could have resulted in this baby. He could feel his forehead pulse with a bit of joy, and a whole lot of shock.

Angela's eyes narrowed, and she sighed angrily at Hodgins.

"No, of course not," she replied, leaning back into her chair. For a guy with a Ph.D, he sure could be an idiot sometimes.

"Then..."

He trailed off, already knowing the answer to his unspoken question. Angela was Ange, not some promiscuous bimbo with nothing better to do than to hang around at a bar and wait until she was too tired to write down her number for anyone else. Sure, she was...well, Angela, but she'd told Hodgins before that meaningful connections always took first priority.

If Wendell wasn't the father, fine. But then (assuming she hadn't cheated on _him _when they were together) there was really only one other option.

"Then..." he repeated, "Then..."

"Broken record, Hodgins," Angela interrupted, crossing her left leg with her right. Hodgins simultaneously brought the pad of his index finger to the center of his chest. The minuscule feeling of uncertainty in the room as to whether or not he was the father had already numbed him, and although his fingernail dug into his lab coat, though he couldn't feel a thing.

"Me?" he asked, still pointing to himself. He felt like the world was suddenly moving in slow motion, and that his actions were light years ahead of everyone one else. Angela nodded, and Hodgins was taken aback by her nonchalance. He pictured what he looked like just then; his limbs frozen in position and his mouth wide open as if he'd just received the biggest piece of news that the universe had to offer him, and he could swear that he would've laughed at himself had his brain not suddenly forgotten how to breathe.

"Hodgins?" Angela began, putting her hands out to make sure he was okay, "You're not gonna pass out on me, are you?"

"What?" he answered. He could feel shivers shooting up his spine like bullets in a gun. Angela was having a baby. His baby. Their baby. Together. A real baby. A girl? Names? Samantha? Ariel? Something abstract? A boy? Jeremy? John? Jack? No, that would be egotistical. A nursery. Blue. Pink. No, neutral. Green. Orange. Purple. Wait. A nursery? A home. Living. Together. Angela. Him.

"Hodgins." Angela said again. His piercing blue eyes had a mad-scientist twinkle to them, and he looked as though a hundred million thoughts were running through his mind. Which wouldn't be completely inaccurate.

"Move in with me," he finally answered, "I'm your guy. I knew I was. _I'm your guy._ We can do this, we can raise this baby. I want to." He paused. "I mean, if you want me to."

Angela looked at him stolidly, her own ocean of thoughts racing through her head. This couldn't happen. Brennan's latest _victim _would know that this arrangement would never work out. Nothing works out without good foundation. And they'd taken a sledgehammer to their foundation that day in the diner. The pieces had to be picked up first before they could be rebuilt.

"Hodgins, you can't waltz in here and act like everything's okay," she said, "Because it's not. We broke up. We can't get back together just for the sake of this baby. That's so _righteous_. How can we figure out how to raise a child when we haven't even figured ourselves out yet?"

Hodgins looked crushed, and his eyes no longer sparkled. Collapsing onto the seat opposite Angela, he sighed.

"I never stopped hoping this would work out, Ange," he said, "That day, it was stupid. _I _was stupid." He rubbed his cheek with his palm. "Either one of us could have stopped it from happening. You know that."

"Then why didn't we, Hodgins?" Angela replied, "_Something _had to have been wrong or one of us would have stopped it."

She looked at him with firm eyes, a small half smile lingering on her mouth. It was a sad one, a defeated one, a smile fighting a perpetual war against disappointment.

"I think we were scared," he replied, shaking his head subconsciously. "I mean, things were moving _fast. _And, I wanted them to, but...the side effect of speed is fear."

"Where did you get _that _one?" Angela asked, cocking her head.

"A fortune cookie from Wong Foo's."

They laughed, and Hodgins leaned forward, resting his chin in his elbow-propped hands. He tried to search Angela's eyes for the answer he was so desperately seeking.

"I can't, yet, Hodgins," she breathed. "I can't do it yet. I can't say that I ever will, but I can't say that I _never_ will either." She chuckled. "If moving fast is what got us here in the first place, then I don't want to do it again."

"So it's not a no?" Hodgins replied, grinning.

"Yes."

"It's a yes?"

"No!"

She smacked the air around him.

"It's not a no, but it's not a yes. It's a...I need to think about it."

Hodgins nodded, looking to the floor as he stood.

"I'll wait, Ange," he replied, raising an eyebrow. "I'll wait as long as you need me to wait. But I will _always _be here...for you, _or _for our baby."

He smiled one last time before he closed the door behind him, leaving Angela to let out a breath she never realized she'd been holding until now.

**So, there you all go! I'd love it if you could review. I saw another fellow fanfic-er say this, and I think it's so true, reviews tend to be my fuel. So any comments, suggestions, anything, are wonderful! Thank you for reading!**

**Oh, and also, I know a lot of writers like to PM back their reviewers. I applaud them for doing that, and I try to whenever I can to, but if I don't, I just really want all of you to know that I appreciate very much that you're reading my story!  
**


	3. The Ultimate Prize

**A/N: Thanks for even more awesome reviews! Here's the third chapter. By the way, I thought Hodgins had such a fantabulous line when he said "I'm your guy," in that one episode, so I tried to incorporate it here + in last chapter. **

The swarm of thoughts that Hodgins had crowded her with made Angela feel suddenly overwhelmed. It was a feeling she seldom got, but that filled her with fear and uncertainty all the same. Its slimy hands rested on her gut, and she could feel them clench and unclench whenever she thought of what to do next. There were so many options.

She had to tell everyone, that was up high on the to do list. That would include her father, which was what perhaps made her feel like she wanted to go crawl in a hole and stay there forever. Well, nine months, to be exact.

Then there was Wendell, about whom she felt unbearably guilty. She hadn't cheated on him by any means, but she felt like a cheater nonetheless. She'd been with him when she'd carried another man's baby. No, she was right. It didn't make her a cheater.

It made her something far worse.

Cam was already happy for her, Brennan would be...Brennan, about it, and Booth would probably squeeze her tight and then let her go suddenly after he realized she was with child. Zack, whenever she got around to telling him would probably squint, and let out that monotone whimper that he always does, unsure of what to say, or how things got to be what they were. And then she would tell him that the baby's father was Hodgins, and he'd probably start rambling about babies, and umbilical cords and something his best friend once said about having kids...

That was it, wasn't it? Not her father, not Cam, not Booth, not Brennan, not Zack...Hodgins. _I'm your guy. I knew I was. I'm your guy. _Why did those words ring through her head? How could he be so fearless? Angela was dipping her toes into the sea, and Hodgins, on the other hand, was diving right in. _I never stopped hoping this would work out, Ange. _He had never stopped hoping.

Had _she_? 

o o o 

"Bren, do you have a minute?"

Angela stood in the doorway, absent mindedly thumbing the palm of her other hand. Brennan was not exactly the best person to dish out relationship advice, but she was always the first person Ange went to anyways.

Bones raised her eyebrows in concern at her best friend's frazzled tone. She rolled her chair away from her computer, and turned it so that she was facing her sofa. Angela walked towards it, plopping herself down, resting her head on the plateau of the back cushion.

"Don't freak out, okay, sweetie?" she prefaced, looking to Bones with a tired glance.

"Ange," Bones replied, chuckling nonchalantly, "When have I ever freaked out?"

"I'm having a baby."

Bones' face contorted into the most uncharacteristic expression, Angela actually chuckled. Her form was rigid for a few moments until she stood up and hugged the woman in front of her gently.

"You're having a baby," she repeated, tasting the words on her lips. Angela would be a fantastic mother, she'd always known that. Seeing even the way she interacted with Parker on his occasional visits to the lab, she definitely had a talent with children that Bones could only ever watch from the sidelines.

"You're having a baby!" she said again, throwing her hands up in the air.

Angela brought her hand to her forehead.

"You're just like Hodgins," she remarked, smirking. "I had to press the mute button or he would've repeated himself forever."

"Angela," Bones replied, confused, "Forever is a misleading concept. For anything to go on _forever _is physically impossible. And, Hodgins is not equipped with a _mute_ button. No human is. Although, some speculation has led me to believe that the CIA does have one particular information-transportation method where they embed--"

"You know that word, 'figurative', sweetie? The one your literature teacher always smacked you in the face with back in high school?

"I don't recall ever being smacked with--oh."

Angela nodded.

"If Wendell needs some time off, he should tell me soon," Bones continued, "Searching for an appropriate grad student is extremely difficult."

"I don't think he'll need any time off, Bren," Angela replied, scrunching up her nose.

"Did he take the news poorly?"

"No-- what? He hasn't taken the news at all."

"Why haven't you told him?"

Angela let her head fall back against the sofa.

"It's Hodgins."

"Hodgins is preventing you from telling Wendell that he's the father of your baby?"

She pressed her hands into her face, and muffled, she replied.

"Hodgins _is_ the father."

Bones found her shocked face again, but this time Angela couldn't bring herself to laugh.

"I know, I _know._ He told me he was _my guy_, sweetie," she conitnued, "No one's ever said that to me before. I- I can't just go back to what it was before because he's the father of my kid. It's not fair for him, or the baby, or me."

Bones tilted her head sympathetically.

"Are you going to ask for advice now? Because I'm not really good at that."

Angela sighed.

"Give it your best shot."

"I don't know what that means."

Chuckling softly, Angela leaned forward.

"Is he worth it, Bren?"

"What do you mean by--"

"Brennan."

Bones paused for a second, gathering her thoughts. Advice was something on many occasions, she had attempted to dole out, only to be stopped by Booth before "she hurt someone".

"Does he make you happy?" she asked. One thing she'd learned from Booth was that happiness was the ultimate goal. She didn't understand how it worked just yet, but the heart had strange ways of doing things.

Angela stopped for a second.

"Yes," she breathed, shocked that Brennan, of all people, had led to that realization. He did, if nothing else, make her happy. Always.

"You look pleased," Brennan continued, "Are you pleased?"

Angela stood and pulled Bones up with her, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and squeezing as hard as she could. Nodding, she let go.

"Thanks," she replied, smiling _happily _for the first time in a while. She beamed as she turned to walk back to her office. Step one was complete.

"Wait!" Bones called out, stepping towards the door, "Could you tell me what it was that I said? Booth tells me that I don't often give out good advice!"

She leaned against the doorway, watching the last bit of her best friend disappear into her office. Today was the one day she actually had said something productive, and Booth wasn't here to see it.

Great.

**A/N: This chapter was definitely a fun one to write. Ever since I started, I was excited to get Bones' reaction, and now that it's finally done, I'm pretty proud! So, thank you for reading. Okay, so I have to put this in here 'cause I'm cringing in my seat, but Jake's crying on Dancing with the Stars, and I'M SO MORTIFIED FOR HIM. RAWR. Okay, the end. **


	4. Big Stars and Big Mouths

**A/N: Here's the fourth chapter. I don't know how realistic this is, but I could personally see it play out. I love Booth and Brennan, so I tried to incorporate a little bit of their brilliant banter into this section. **

Gathered around the holographic table, Angela's stomach clenched.

For once, it wasn't because of the thought of the baby, and the beautiful, slowly untangling mess that she found herself in. It was because the victim in front of her had been run over by a motorcycle, gutted, and hanged, and the violation of mere decency had her insides churning. Wendell stood uncomfortably close behind her, and Cam, Booth, and Brennan stood opposite the two. Wendell looked at the simulation in awe.

"That is so cool," he said through a hanging jaw.

The four others turned towards him with raised eyebrows.

"Excuse me?" Angela asked, taking a step away from him. Something in him had already begun to turn her off. His glistening eyes seemed dull to her, and his morally upright personality made her want to go smash something in the White House. Hodgins was more rebellious. Damn, did she just think that?

"No," he replied, waving his hands, "Not the gutting...the holograph thing. It's so...real."

"_Mhm_," Angela said disapprovingly. She maintained a few inches of distance, and Wendell looked at her peculiarly.

So did Brennan.

"Is there a problem between you two?" she asked innocently, "There definitely seems to be some sort of tension. Is this because of the--"

"SO, THE MURDERER," Cam interrupted loudly, sending Angela into shudders of relief and Booth into a spiral of confusion, "he, uh, was very precise." She cleared her throat. "Hodgins identified the particulates as obsidian. But the slant of the cuts seem to point to some sort of tool. Like a scalpel, almost."

"So we're looking for a med student slash pyschopath?" Booth asked, cocking his head.

"Possibly."

"Great."

He rubbed his temples, and then the nape of his neck, trying to relieve some of the stress that a new case never failed to provide him with. It didn't help that Cam was acting strange, throwing Angela the weirdest looks ever once in a while.

"Guys," a voice called from the hallway. Hodgins stood with a tiny glass vial in his hand, and his signature king-of-the-lab smirk on his face.

"I traced back the license plate particulates of the car our victim was hit with," he announced, striding confidently towards Angela's right side. He brushed her hand accidentally and she jerked away. Booth squinted.

"I took the liberty of running the data through the system," he continued, shaking the little vial, "Aleksandra Lane."

Booth's mouth dropped open.

"_The _Aleksandra Lane?" he repeated. His thumb pulsed involuntarily by his side.

"Who is Aleksandra Lane?" Bones asked.

"Give-Carmen-Electra-a-run-for-her-money Aleksandra Lane?"

Hodgins nodded.

"Who is Aleksandra Lane?" she repeated.

"Screamfest, Lionwoman, _Hot Tub Party 4 _Aleksandra Lane?"

Frustrated, Bones brought her pointer finger and thumb to Booth's face, and pinched his nose as tightly as she could. Her self defense class had taught her that it was a quick way to cause a little bit of pain to get out of mild trouble.

"Ow, Bones!"

"Who the hell is Aleksandra _Lane?_" she asked irritably.

"Only the hottest woman to ever grace the planet," Wendell joined in, illiciting an angry glare from his girlfriend, "Well...second," he added.

"Is she a good actress?" Bones pressed.

Booth made an obnoxious sound through his closed lips.

"She stinks, Bones."

"Oh," she replied, "Does her lack of bodily hygiene hinder a successful work environment on set?"

Even Cam chuckled at that one.

"It means she's awful, Bones."

Bones paused for a second.

"Then why do you three seem to worship her?"

Booth made that noise again.

"We do not _worship _her, Bones," he answered, looking at Wendell and Hodgins for a bit of help, "We just find her...very..." he trailed off, curving the air in front of him into a womanly shape.

Bones nodded her head in faux comprehension.

"Can I come with you to arrest her?" Hodgins asked Booth, grinning.

"In your dreams," Booth answered.

Winking, naturally.

o o o

"She didn't do it," Booth announced. The team was scattered in the laboratory, and at his arrival, they began to cluster around him.

Wendell puckered his lips idly, and Cam looked at the floor in thought.

"What about the license plate?" she asked.

"Aleksandra reported a theft a week ago--" Booth scoffed, "Her black Yukon. I got an agent to look at the police reports- he says it checks out." There was a sly grin on his face. A biological happiness that his third favorite woman on Earth wasn't a heartless murderer. Number one is his mother, since you're obviously wondering.

"Hodgins, have you found any other particulates we can track down?" Bones asked, "We can't do anything other than that until Angela finishes the facial reconstruction." She looked to Angela apologetically.

"_Oh,_" Angela said, slapping her forehead, "I completely forgot. Where did you put the skull? I'll do it right now."

Bones gave her a small smile, and gestured for Angela to follow her.

"Dr. Hodgins, see if you can get anything else," Cam repeated, walking towards the victim.

"On it," he replied.

"I put it right here, Angela," Bones said, delicately picking up the reassembled skull she had placed near the body. Angela nodded, taking it into her hands.

"It'll be done soon," she replied.

"Thanks, Ange," Bones answered. She paused before speaking again. "You know, you might want to consider taking some time off. Certain fumes may be harmful to the baby even in early stages of development. I wouldn't want anything to happen to--what?"

She furrowed her eyebrows at Angela's horrified face. Wendell had spun around at the mention of 'baby' like he was the next James Bond. Booth's jaw had dropped, Cam buried her forehead in her hands, and Hodgins had already begun counting the tiles of the laboratory floor.

"Have I done something wrong?" Bones asked, still oblivious to the tension in the room.

"You're pregnant?" Wendell asked incredulously.

Angela nodded. She felt that being submissive about the whole issue would make it  
hurt less for him. And besides, there was a chance that he would be very understanding. It wasn't like it was _her _fault. Well. Not really.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he pressed. Angela bit her lip.

"It's seven weeks old, Wendell," she replied. Suddenly she could see him doing the math in his head, and the heartbroken realization on his face made her feel vulnerable.

"But...we've only been together for a month," he said. He looked over at Hodgins, and the falseness of his stolid expression told him everything he needed to know. "It's his?" he continued, almost icily. There was a certain relief of knowing that the baby was not his-- god knows he wouldn't have been prepared, but the fact that it was his good friend's made him feel betrayed.

"Wendell, I didn't confirm until today."

He shook his head in disbelief, and Cam and Booth ushered Brennan away from the crime scene. They both knew she'd get what was coming to her later.

"Then why did you tell everyone _else_ before me?" His words were desperate, trying to understand the situation he'd suddenly been thrust into.

"I didn't, I just--"

"Don't talk to her like that."

Hodgins stared at Wendell straight in the eyes defiantly. Angela could tell whoever she wanted, in his opinion.

"Hodgins, don't."

"No," Wendell interrupted, "it's fine."

He walked over to the curly haired scientist, and gave him his best half smile. And then, with all the strength he had, he lifted his hand and brought it straight to Hodgins' face.

**A/N: Thanks to ****DeviantOrchid**** 's suggestion for that last bit! I had already written that bit about smashing things in the White House by the time I read your review, so I thought it would be a perfect little ironic bit. **


	5. Strong Idiots

"OW!"

Hodgins tented his hands over his face, trying to protect it from the further wrath of Wendell. It had been a clean blow to the bridge of his nose, and he had to blink back the sting of water in his eyes. He could already feel a few drops of scarlet liquid running across his lips, open and desperate for air.

"What the hell, Hodgins is your nose made of pure steel? Damn!" Wendell had wrapped his left hand around his right, and his eyes were pressed tightly shut in agony. It'd been a clean blow all right, one that had send him staggering back, feeling a throbbing in his middle knuckle that he never- and never again wanted to- experienced.

"You guys!" Angela shouted, racing over to Wendell first. She lifted his hand as he grimaced, and glanced at the grotesquely twisted finger in the middle of Wendell's hand that had already begun to swell.

"Oh, crap," she concluded after a few seconds of examination, "It's definitely broken."

"I _know _it's broken," Wendell replied tersely, glaring at Hodgins. "_I _could have told you that." Angela stepped back, and raised her eyebrows. There was a dangerous sparkle in her eye that Wendell only rarely ignited, and he gulped at its reappearance.

"Sorry," he mumbled, again cradling his broken finger, "It just hurts so f-"

"Okay," Angela interrupted, pursing her lips. "Bren, can you take a look at him?" she called. Wendell looked confused and wounded as Bones quickly re-entered the room.

"Aren't you gonna come?" he asked.

Angela took a long look at his flushed cheeks and unusually tousled hair.

"I'll catch up with you two in a second," she finally replied. Wendell nodded at her words- both the spoken and unspoken ones, and was guided out of the room by Bones.

"I can confirm the severity of your injury with a simple test, Wendell," she said. "May I?"

"I don't think that's such a good id-"

"Does this hurt?"

o o o

Angela bit her lip, walking over to Hodgins with an air of uncertainty. Glancing around the room, she realized it was suspiciously- and thankfully- devoid of both Cam and Booth- the only two living people in the Jeffersonian with any sense of social etiquette.

"Hey," she muttered, offering her best half-smile. Picking up a hand towel from a stack on the desk behind her, she brought it to Hodgins' face, and started dabbing at the slowly decreasing trickle of blood.

"You're in idiot, you know," she offered quietly, taking care to avoid the now swollen and visibly crooked part of his nose.

"A strong idiot, though, right?" he quipped, wiggling his eyebrows. Angela chuckled, and put down the towel, placing the tip of her finger on his nose ever so delicately.

"Ow, ow, ow, owwww," Hodgins mumbed, cringing beneath the feathery weight on his injury.

"Yeah, pretty _strong_," she replied sarcastically. She quickly shifted her tone back to a more serious one.

"We'd better get you to a doctor- an _M.D._, since I know your next joke is going to be that you _are _one." She smiled before bringing her hand away from his face.

Hodgins caught it before it could rest in its rightful place by her side.

"I'm fine right here," he whispered.

**A/N: Short chapter, I know, don't shoot me. Gotta ease myself back into this plot! I don't personally know whether or not this situation is medically possible, but for the purpose of my story, suspend all disbelief. (:**


	6. Loud Thoughts and Unspoken Farewells

**A/N: Hey everyone, here's the latest chapter to this story! I think Wendell needed a little bit of me-time, so I tried to deliver that with this chapter. I've finally gotten back into the heads of these amazing characters, and I'm already excited to write more! I just had to put this into the ficworld for you all to read and review! Thanks so much and I hope you enjoy~ **

Wendell rubbed his neck with his un-splinted hand, thoroughly exhausted by the events of the day. Sure, Hodgins' damn face had taken a pretty heavy toll on him- only god knew what kind of freaky plastic surgery he would have to have gone through to get his face that..._hard_- but Wendell would live through it over and over again to avoid the pain of what Angela had done to him.

The fact that she was pregnant with another man's child wasn't exactly _bonnes nouvelles. _In fact, it was probably the most bizarre, unexpected, straight-up-crappy news that he could have received, and yet, it was hardly the most hurtful thing that had happened to him today.

When Angela had chosen Hodgins over him to tend to, it was an excruciating metaphor in his head. Dr. Hodgins had again won the title of King of the Lab, and now a certain Angela Montenegro that worked in it had become his prize.

There was no going back, which was the worst part of it all. A situation like this was irreversible, permanent. He and Hodgins had been friends, and there was no way that _that _relationship could possibly arrive at some sense of normalcy now. He and Angela had been a couple, and now they were...well, they were something.

It all just seemed so crazy. Yesterday- hell, two hours ago- everything was so _normal. _Dr. Brennan was being her usual, brilliant, blustering self, Booth was as amicably snarky as ever, and he and Angela had something palpable, albeit strained. Now that he thought about it, she had seemed a little strange earlier in the day...actually, so had everyone at the Jeffersonian.

God, he was such an idiot.

As he lamented over his lack of brain capacity, he heard the door of the hospital room open and close. Turning quickly, half knowing who he would see, he put on the kindest smile he could muster and mumbled a detached greeting.

"Hey," he said, making an empty effort to stand and embrace Angela. She walked slowly and unsure of herself, her expression completely devoid of jokes and sarcasm. She put her hand on around his shoulder as a formality, and hugged him close for a few seconds. But both of them knew their wind had finally died down.

"How are you doing?" she asked, reluctantly sitting on the hospital bed beside him. He seemed fine apart from the splinted finger and bottle of pain medications behind him.

"I'm okay," he replied. "Life isn't all that bad when you're on Vicodin," he continued, shaking the bottle.

Angela laughed half-heartedly, and put her hand on his.

"I think you know what I'm going to say," she said. She swallowed and looked up at him, expecting a reply. He nodded.

"And I want you to know that I'm sorry," she continued, averting her gaze. "I'm sorry things worked out this way because I didn't expect it, and I don't know if I was ready to move on from what we had, you know?"

Wendell nodded again, and Angela smirked.

"Are you going to speak now, or did Hodgins make you mute too?" Wendell instantly noticed that her eyes glittered when she spoke his name.

"I don't know what to say, Ange," he replied, shaking his head. "I'm sorry too, I think, is a good way to sum everything up. I just feel a little blindsided, and I'm not sure what to do about it."

Angela cocked her head, and let out a frustrated breath.

"I didn't mean for this to happen, Wendell," she replied, "I didn't exactly _schedule _this into my calendar either. We're both going to have to deal with this in different ways. Separate ways."

Wendell shook his head. "I didn't mean it like that, Ange. I know you didn't plan it, I know you didn't know. And Angela, you don't ever have to apologize about this to me. I just...separate?"

Angela felt her heart skip a beat as she tried to understand what Wendell was saying. He couldn't possibly have meant that he was willing..._them_...As if he understood her confusion, he offered a sort of translation.

"I mean, we could...raise...a baby...we could do it. Together." He looked up at her with eyes that looked as if they were pleading, making a deal, trading a life of infinite possibilities and limitless excitement for a life of solidity and love.

"Oh, Wendell," Angela whispered, "I can't." She opened her mouth a few times, but nothing would come out. It was strange how his offer seemed to burden her more than gift her with a sense of solace and tranquility. She knew more than anyone that it wouldn't be fair to anyone even mildly involved in the situation. "You know it's not what you want, and I can't ask you to force it on yourself," she managed to reply. Wendell nodded and seemed hurtfully relieved.

"We're just over, aren't we?" he asked, smiling wistfully to himself. It was like some sort of twisted romantic drama where the sun had simply set on two lovers' time. There was no way that it could work this way, with both Angela's fierce loyalty and Wendell's impossibly stout morals as pillars in their relationship. If one stood, the other fell. And it was obvious as to whose would prevail. Two souls were always stronger than one, and whether or not Angela saw it, her pillar was already attached to someone else's. It was dusk for them, but aside from everything, Wendell still wished her the best, and knew deep down that he'd be alright with her dawn coming sooner than his.

Angela wrapped her arms around him for a final time, sensing the period at the end of his question, and gave him a final kiss on the cheek.

"I think we are," she answered. Wendell looked down at the floor, his once hidden defeat now obvious on his transparent features.

"I love you, Angela," he finished, offering her a half-smile. It was bold to put that last assertion out there, but it was the only chance at closure that he was going to get. Angela smiled sympathetically back at him, already sure of her next words. Any reciprocity for his statement would only lead him on, in addition to being utterly insincere. She placed a hand on the hospital door, and opened her mouth to address him for the final time.

"I'll miss you, Wendell," she said.


	7. Seventh Week Jitters

**Hello everyone! I've had this chapter half-written for months now, but I finally got it finished today! I APOLOGIZE FOR BEING SUCH A SLOW POKE, but it's finally summer so hopefully I'll get to updating more regularly. I hope this tides you over for a little while, though! **

Angela clutched her stomach as she felt a wave of nausea come over her. She crinkled her nose as the Febreze she had sprayed around her office suddenly made her want to boycott it for the rest of her life. Damn Febreze. So tempting, in its blue plastic glory, its logo in exaggerated type face that had just screamed at Angela to purchase it. _Buy me, buy me, _it had said. _I smell good. So good. _

Until, of course, it made her want to puke up her guts.

Oh lord.

The situation with Hodgins and Wendell was something Angela could deal with. Hell, somehow both of them together was easier than each of those boys on their own. But the sheer irrationality of pregnancy- that was something that was going to drive her insane.

Maybe it was because she'd been spending so much time with Brennan lately, or maybe it was just because her world had recently been shaken up and she was trying desperately to cling onto any terra firma that there was left. First the baby, then Hodgins finding out. _Then _Wendell finding out- which sounded bad to her as she mulled over it - and now here she was, alone, stuck with the repercussions of it all and the overwhelmingly annoying need to vomit.

Perhaps _alone _wasn't the most appropriate word to use. In fact, it was wrong completely. There was a plethora of people outside her two glass doors that were waiting to offer her a hand whenever she needed it. And then, amongst them, there was one that's willing to offer her his heart.

Damn.

DAMN.

Why was it her that was always so lucky?

Suddenly Angela found Hodgins' words running through her mind again. For what now, the billionth time? _I'm your guy. I'm your guy. I'm your guy. _She had listened to it stoically, understanding the childish sincerity behind his words. And now she heard it again, playing through her head like one of her father's twisted lullabies.

It wasn't that Hodgins wouldn't be a good enough father. That was most certainly not even one of her worries. In fact, he would definitely give her a run for her money in the favorite parent race. The stereotype around her situation didn't worry her- what anyone else thought about her wasn't exactly something she cared about. And there was no doubt in her mind that she didn't love him. They'd shared too many late nights drinking alcohol out of beakers, too many days poking fun at victims on Brennan's table. They'd separated, but they'd never broken up. Something that strong could never break.

Then what on earth was it that made her so hesitant to legitimize things with Hodgins? She'd never been one to shy away from a challenge, but the idea of facing him and telling him that she was willing to try things again seemed like something that could only exist in theory. But time was ticking. There were placed that needed to be visited, things that would need to be done, all of which Hodgins would surely appreciate being a part of. It would never be too late, she was fairly sure, to invite him into her and their baby's life, but certainly it would be better if she had her epiphany _before _the child was born!

With a sigh, she collapsed onto her sofa, throwing her legs dramatically over its arm and resting her head on the opposite end. She placed her hands instinctively over her stomach, hoping to drown out her indecision with a bit of sleep.

"Ange?"

Her eyes opened reluctantly to the sight of the two figures in the doorway. Booth had his arms crossed tiredly across his chest, and Bones leaned against the door frame, her expression one of sincere apology.

"Are you busy?"

Angela shook her head quietly and began to reposition herself, propping up her torso against the sofa's armrest.

"No, no, it's fine, Ange, stay where you are," Bones said, gently putting her arms in front of her in warning. Angela waved her off, chuckling softly.

"I'm seven _weeks_ pregnant, Bren," she retorted lightly, "Not seven months."

Bones furrowed her eyebrows.

"Well, of course, Angela," she replied matter-of-factly, "If you were seven months pregnant you would hardly be able to maintain the figure you have now. Easily you would have gained anywhere from between twenty to thirty pounds and-"

Booth cleared his throat as means of an interruption.

"What Bones is _trying _to say is...well, Bones?"

She glared at him briefly before pulling up a chair next to the sofa.

"I'm so sorry, Ange," she began, "for spilling the lentils about your baby."

Angela didn't even try to stifle her laughter.

"Beans, Bren. _Beans._"

"Oh," Bones replied, nodding, "You would...like some? It's very common to experience intense cravings for things that you don't normally like." She continued to nod, and Booth buried his head in his hands.

Eyeing his exasperated form amusedly, Angela shook her head with nonchalance.

"It's alright, sweetie," she promised, "You gave this kid quite an entrance."

Bones smiled gently as Angela touched her hand reassuringly.

"If you ever need to talk about something, I'm always here for you," Bones continued. Booth lifted his head from his hands and raised his hands in front of him as if bracing himself for a fall.

"Hey, if you ladies need to talk about...girl...stuff," he paused for a second, "I could jam on it."

Angela shook her head again, gesturing to a second chair.

"No, grab a seat," she protested, "I think you guys might actually be able to help me."

o o o

"And I don't know what to do," Angela mumbled, stuffing the last cracker into her mouth as Booth and Brennan watched her dazedly, "It's like I have so many damn decisions to make all at once!"

"Booth, can I ask you a question about Rebecca?" she continued, throwing the empty box of crackers frustratedly into the general vicinity of the trash can.

He nodded warmly.

"Shoot."

"What was it like," she began timidly, "When Rebecca told you she was pregnant with Parker?"

Booth stilled in contemplation as Bones eyed him subtly.

"It was scary, I'll tell you that," he finally started, "Scary as hell. All of a sudden you go from carefree boyfriend to thinking about diapers and _then _thinking about wedding rings and it's just a lot of stuff all at once." Angela nodded thoughtfully. "It never once crossed my mind to leave her though, Ange. And stepping up to the plate never felt like a burden. The only thing that scared me once I had come to terms with the fact that I was going to be a father was what kind of father someone like me would end up being."

Angela nodded again.

"So you were scared too?" she asked.

"Terrified," he replied. "I never told Rebecca but I was probably just as scared as her. Just like you." He paused, knowingly. "Just like Hodgins."

Angela looked up.

"So it's normal, then?" she asked childishly. "To be scared out of your mind?"

"Hell yes. And don't go telling yourself that it gets better with time, either," he continued deviously, "Parker's nine and I'm still scared out of my wits." He flashed her a grin, and Angela punched the side of his shoulder.

"_Thanks_, Booth," she muttered sarcastically, trying to hide her own grin. "You've made me feel _so _much better."

He laughed heartily, patting her arm.

"It's the best thing, though, Ange," he said, "One of the best things in the world."

He looked at Bones vaguely as she cocked her head at him.

"I don't get it."

Booth just chuckled.


	8. A Visit to the Doctor

**Author's Note: Oh gosh, thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews. :) And I must say, I'm so surprised that they're all so wonderful considering the fact that I've been an absolute failure at updating! But hey, blame it on school. It's almost as painful as Wendell's broken finger. (Luckily it's over now though, so I'm going to make it my utmost goal in life to update this story more frequently. XD) I thought I'd try and redeem myself by giving ya'll a nice, fluffy update, so here it comes & I hope you enjoy! **

"What exactly are you doing?" Hodgins asked exasperatedly, "Trying to see what a nose looks like when it's _horizontal?_"

He swatted the nurse's hands away angrily away from his nose, ignoring her subsequent glare. Grimacing, he ran a finger over its crooked bridge, clenching his spare hand into an infuriated fist when it retaliated with searing pain.

"Damn it," he cursed under his breath. Pointing a thoughtless finger at the doctor who stood some feet away, he added, "Wendell is going to _pay _for this, I swear! Damn interns. _I'm _king of the lab, alright? _Me!_" The woman raised her eyebrows in bemused concern.

"I'd put in a script for a pain killer, but I'm not so sure you're not already on one," she replied dryly. "Or two," she added as an afterthought. "You told Nurse Arbor that you've never had any substance abuse problems in your lifetime, correct, Mr. Hodgins?" She held the pen in front of her mouth to hide her grin and exchanged glances with the shorter woman beside her.

He scowled at her menacingly before correcting her.

"_Doctor _Hodgins. _Doctor._"

With sudden remorse, he waved his hand irritably.

"I apologize, Dr. Hamilton, for my behavior. It's just that my entire face feels like it's been run over by a pickup truck."

The woman's eyes widened.

"I'm afraid you'll have to tell Nurse Arbor about why you're so experienced with that particular sensation," she replied cheekily, "I believe I have a surgery to schedule for a _Doctor _Hodgins." She smiled comfortingly to him as he gulped.

"Surgery?"

With a lopsided grin, Nurse Arbor waved a hand dismissively in front of his face.

"Don't worry about it, hon," she told him, "People come in here with broken noses all the time. Now... back to the questions. Have you experienced any mood swings lately or extended periods of sadness or withdrawal?" Hodgins groaned outwardly as he watched Doctor Hamilton turn the door handle.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, taking a step back, "I hadn't realized there was somebody here."

Angela waved her hand casually, "There wasn't. I just got here a second ago." She grinned charmingly, gesturing to the inside of the room.

"Think you could let me in?"

Doctor Hamilton opened her mouth before glancing at the tiny "Get Well Soon" balloon-on-a-stick that Angela held in her hand. She smiled at it first, and then at Angela, who stood before the woman with such an air of hopeful enthusiasm that she could not even think of sending her back to the waiting room where she most certainly belonged.

"Sure," she replied, gesturing for her to enter, "Just make sure he doesn't hurt himself with that." She pointed to the balloon laughingly before slipping out the door.

Angela smirked, resting her gaze on the annoyed figure hunched over on the examination table. She noted to herself how much he resembled a child right before a tantrum, arms crossed reservedly with a determined pout on his lips. Chuckling, she walked to him, watching his features brighten slightly with the revelation that she'd come back.

"Ange," he breathed with relief, "What are you doing here?"

"Oh," she replied coolly, "I was dying for some more crackers, and when I went to the grocery store, I saw this." She paused thoughtfully. "Thought of you."

Handing him the bright blue balloon, she watched as Hodgins twirled the stick between his thumb and forefinger. The mylar seemed to change shades every so slightly, and Angela studied the shifting hues with intensity before Hodgins' voice interrupted her concentration.

"Thanks, Ange," he said warmly, leaning in for a hug.

Angela complied hesitantly, much to Hodgins' concern.

"Is something wrong?"

She shook her head fiercely, grinning. "I just don't want to break you," she replied gleefully, "Gosh, _look _at that." She pretended to reach out and squeeze his nose, eliciting an endearing look of terror on the curly haired scientist's face. She withdrew her hands in mock surrender, attempting to stifle her laughter. Clearing her throat, she pursed her lips seriously.

"So what'd the doctor say?"

"Surgery," Hodgins replied unhappily. Angela's mouth opened for a brief moment before closing again.

"Damn," she muttered. More cheerfully, she added, "But you know, we could always get you out of here and Bren could do to your nose what she did to Wendell's finger." She brought her own finger before her face, mimicking what she'd seen Bones do earlier in the day. "She took a load off of these doctors, I'll tell you that much," she continued, smiling, "I'm pretty sure he's already been discharged." Hodgins laughed emptily along with her until it faded into silence.

Angela shifted anxiously when their laughter had ceased, searching Hodgins' face for a reason behind his disconnect. He looked at her meaningfully before focusing his eyes on something behind her. Instinctively, she turned, her gaze resting on a portly woman lingering nosily by the door.

Grinning inwardly, she cleared her throat to get the woman's attention.

"Excuse me, Nurse..."

"Arbor," Hodgins whispered.

"Nurse Arbor," Angela repeated, "Would you mind giving us a few moments alone?"

The woman pointed impatiently to the clipboard in her hand, shaking her head.

"We have questions that need to be answered, hon. Preferably _before _his surgery takes place." She put a hand on her hip, eyeing Angela accusingly.

Hodgins waved his hand in dismissal.

"Whatever you ask me, you can ask in front of her." Angela smiled as she stood beside him, but placed an insistent hand upon his.

"It's fine, Hodgins, I can come back when you're done."

He shook his head, intertwining his fingers with hers.

"Stay," he said firmly.

Angela looked at the nurse helplessly, who, with a haughty breath, turned back to her clipboard to read the next question.

"Have you noticed any irregularities in your bowel movements during the past few weeks?" Nurse Arbor shifted her weight expectantly, eyes darting between Angela's face and Hodgins', whose cheeks had begun to turn a bright shade of red.

Angela bit her lip amusedly, detaching her fingers from his.

"I'll be right outside," she whispered. She patted his cheek fondly before walking to the door, taking her plastic bag of boxed crackers with her. Hodgins watched tenderly as she left, before refocusing his gaze on the plump woman who stood triumphantly a distance away.

"Really?" he asked her coldly, "You just _had _to go with that one?"

o o o

An abundance of cringe-worthy moments later, Nurse Arbor opened the door behind her, letting Angela enter as she slipped cheerfully through. Angela closed it softly before walking back towards Hodgins, hoisting herself onto the examination table on which he still sat.

"Was it bad?" she asked sympathetically.

"Terrible."

She scrunched her nose in apology, scratching the vinyl beneath her absent-mindedly.

"How did it go with Wendell?" Hodgins asked suddenly. Angela didn't look up and instead stared fixatedly upon an indiscernible spot on her jeans.

"I mean," she started, "It went as well as something like that _can _go." She looked up, finally, and was startled to see the intensity of Hodgins' concern.

"You guys...I mean...you..."

"Broke up? Yeah." Angela swept a few locks of hair out of her face, and looked at him meaningfully.

"Look, Hodgins, there's something I've-"

She was cut off by an abrupt knock on the door, to which she replied with a frustrated sigh.

"Tell me," Hodgins pressed, glaring at the door briefly as though it would make the person behind it disappear.

Angela shook her head. "I'll tell you later."

"Ange-"

"Doctor Hodgins, it's Doctor Hamilton."

A small smile crept onto Angela's lips.

"You got her to call you _doctor?_" She swatted at his shoulder playfully.

"Three PhD's, baby," he replied, puffing out his chest with exaggerated pride.

Angela responded with a lopsided grin.

"And yet you still can't figure out how to fix that nose of yours." She clicked her tongue before hopping off the examination table, watching Hodgins smile back at her with mock indignation.

Quickly it faded and was replaced with sudden timidity.

"You'll be in the waiting room?" he asked hopefully. Angela nodded, raising the bag of crackers to eye level.

"Happily eating myself into oblivion. Yes. Yes, I will." She turned towards the door reluctantly before swiveling back over to Hodgins, giving him a quick, chaste kiss on the cheek.

"See you soon," she whispered comfortingly, making her way over to the exit. Opening the door, she ushered Doctor Hamilton inside.

"You'll take good care of him, right?" she asked seriously.

The woman nodded. "The very best."

Angela nodded to herself as reassurance. With one last turn of her heel, she waved to Hodgins and slipped through the door, closing it softly behind her.


End file.
